


Please Don't Leave Me I Am Helpless

by LadyLinn



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: APPRECIATE THEM DAMNIT, AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon Era, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Romance, What-If, What-if Challenge, musical storyline, what if alex had put eliza first, you have a beautiful family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-08 15:48:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7763779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLinn/pseuds/LadyLinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...all he cared about was the stunning Schuyler that stood before him and every breath she took."</p><p>Hamilton always cared for his legacy and what he would be remembered for. It was always about what he'd done in politics-what he could do. But, what if his career came second?</p><p>What if Eliza came first?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He Was Helpess

**Author's Note:**

> AU where Alex put Eliza first in his mind, heart, and soul, and everything that changed because of it,

     Alex used to pray for the day he would finally accomplish it. Even when he stopped praying, he always _wished_ he would accomplish it. He worked and read and fought all because he wanted to make it. His little island, as beautiful and important it was, held nothing for the innovative Caribbean. He had no money, no fame, all he had was his mother.

 

     His father, taken from him so soon. _I guess it doesn’t necessarily count as taken if he left without much of a goodbye...or a hello for that matter._ His mother would be stolen from him, as well. Everyone he loved would be gone and dead until he was killed himself.

 

     But he was just a boy. He didn’t have his words or his fight, yet. He just had his mother and that was enough. Playing with her curly brown hair, tugging at her loose white dress, banging different parts of the floor because he liked the sound, that was Alex.

 

     After the hurricane, he became Alexander.

 

     Alexander was the one with the heart of steel. Alexander was the smart one, the one with the bite to his word and the stride in his step. He was the man that fought in the war, that made all those companions ( _lost all those companions_ ), wrote his way out of hell.

 

     So, when he was invited to a ball, he couldn’t resist himself. He was tired of Alexander, he just wanted to enjoy himself and drink and laugh.

 

_Try to forget._

 

     At the winter’s ball, sure he was excited to meet all the people there and converse. Talking was his specialty. As vain as it may sound, he loved hearing himself talk. It distracted him from his thoughts or his work. A comforting solace from himself. It was almost laughable that to get away from himself he became more in tune with everything that made him, _him._

 

     He longed for the look in people’s eyes when he said something with distinction. Lived for the look in their eyes when he slipped a drawl to change his sentence. Shorten his a’s, click his tongue, take longer breaths. He lived to make people hang on to his words. Consequently, outreach was his talent. He built relationships on a foundation he built long before the conversation started.

 

     He didn’t have enough time to build his and Eliza Schuyler’s foundation.

 

     After a couple rounds of small talk, he was preparing himself to speak to one of the most important newspaper outletsㄧ

 

     Then he met eyes with her. Immediately the spacious ballroom became nothing. The intricate chandelier that hung above all the guests meant nothing. The hundreds of diamonds that may have taken refuge in the gaudy light fixture had nothing against the smile she sent his way. The waiters in black and white faded into the walls. The tinkling of champagne glasses seemed like the quick laugh she threw at her table. Alex wished he could stride over to the table and set his hand on the white-laced tablecloth and garb all her attention. At that moment, nothing mattered but that moment.

 

     Everything Alex had taken pride in vanished from him. His confidence and easy-going manner diminished into doubt and nerves. How could anything he say be worth her attention.

 

_Reciting your grocery list is worth the entirety of England’s attention, Alex, get it together!_

 

     When he felt a tap on his shoulder, he was slightly shocked to see a young lady smile up at him. He wasn’t in a state of mind to give her his full attention, but he tried to manage.

 

     In an attempt to begin a bright conversation he opens with, “Have you ever been satisfied?” It wasn’t until after the words escaped his lips that he realized how terrible that could be taken.

 

_She looks like her..._

 

     “Excuse me?” she replied, shocked. Her neat black eyebrow slowly raised up as the corner of her smile turned down.

 

     Alex nearly hit himself to save her the trouble and tried to mend the conversation. “You know, _I_ have never been satisfied.”

 

_She’s just another person._

 

_But she’s not the right one._

 

     The woman seemed to understand Alex’s urgency and his lack of interest. Sure, he talked, but when did he not. She knew when she was wanted and knew when someone’s eyes were fixed on something, _someone_ , else.

 

     Her eyes trailed to where his seemed to glance between sentences. She almost smiled when she her sister glance down and blush at that moment. Her baby sister, Eliza, blushing at a rebel’s spared glances. She turned back to see a dusting of pink graze Alex’s cheeks. Barely noticeable, she could only tell by his eyes.

 

     One more peek.

 

     Eliza was, too.

 

     “Where are you taking me?” Alex asked, half fearful, half intrigued.

 

     “I’m about to change your life,” she laughed.

 

     And she did.

 

     “This is my sister, Eliza.” She stated. It was heavy and forceful, as if it were a warning and she’d be damned if it didn’t come across as such. Alex caught on and fixed his posture, his face, his demeanor.

 

     “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he smiled at her. He had to exude confidence because she was calm and lovely. When he shook her hand, he never imagined such a small hand could fit so _perfectly_ in his.

 

     Eliza’s smile seemed to escape from her mouth and creep up to each corner of her face. Her cheekbones were prominent as her cheeks rose up to her eyes. They folded in on themselves revealing two dimples on each cheek. Her skin scrunched right beneath her eyes. Right beneath her honey, doe-like eyes. She’d have the whole world at her feet with just a glance.

 

     Her eyes could start wars.

 

     “The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for your service and all you’ve done. I mean it when I say we all appreciate it.” She breathed out. Eliza seemed to whisper her words even when she spoke. It was as if every breath carried something important, even if there was nothing to be  said.

 

     To Alex, her voice could stop wars, too.

 

     “If it takes fighting a war for us meet, it will have been worth it.”

 

     Eliza’s giggle made it all worth it. He didn’t care if he sounded like an idiot or if he was one, all he cared about was the stunning Schuyler that stood before him and every breath she took. He didn’t even notice when her sister left. He didn’t care to catch her name.


	2. I Want To Take Her Far  Away From This Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I clarified some things about the "AU" deal I have going on so check at the end if you so please! thanks!

     With shaky hands and an erratic heartbeat, he sealed his first letter. _To Elizabeth Schuyler,_ it read, written in Alex’s most ornate script. He made sure to use the special stationary he bought when he first moved to New York, the first bit of luxury he saved for. The fresh white parchment was embellished with gold markings, hugging the edges of the paper. It reminded him of her-a luxury he wasn’t quite sure he deserved. Still, she deserved every bit of grandeur the struggling orphan could provide

 

     Ever since that night at the ball, he became more spacey, more lost in his thoughts. During his essays, he would think of how Eliza might write. _I bet she writes in loopy cursive,_ he thought, _she’d leave lots of space. Parchment companies must adore her._ He caught himself smiling in the middle of making future financial plans and he knew he had to write her.

 

     When he got his first letter, all he could roll over was the fact that he could predict Eliza so easily.

 

_I knew it._

 

     He loved her handwriting. A solid ten minutes were spent with Alex in pure awe of how she made his dull name into an artistic spectacle. She gave her letters space to breathe and live. The ink danced in wide curves, resting towards the end. The “n” in “Hamilton” wrapped under his name, encasing the entirety of his name in her delicate quill strokes.

 

     He gasped when he opened the envelope. What was inside held even more than what the envelope could depict. While he loved her penmanship, it was her _writing_ that struck him the most. He especially liked the way she put her words together. They held riddles and rhymes, her sentences were stories. Her letter held unknown secrets and unwritten messages. It reminded him of a once upon a time, a had been that may have been a what if. Her dramatic flourishes reminded him of a time forgotten. It reminded _Alexander_ of all that he lost, yet it was perfect to _Alex_. Somehow Eliza was his stability, she was the eye of the hurricane.

 

     Alex appeared to have met a goddess of the arts and somehow she became the goddess of his heart.

 

     After only half a month Alex knew he needed every second he could take from Eliza. He’d find himself making a daily checklist of all the things he’d recount to her. She was his favorite topic. At the grocer’s he’d mention this, “Wonderful woman I met at a party. She’s very smart and, honestly, could singlehandedly repair colonial inflation.” It wasn’t until he found himself wandering into a ring shop that he really understood the depth of his emotions. But he didn’t have time to worry about that because, “ _Would Eliza prefer a silver or gold band?”_

 

* * *

 

     When Alex finally confessed to Eliza his slight marriage plans, he was a mess. Ready for disappointment, Alex was primed for rejection. Of course, he would be heartbroken; how can someone go from drinking cocktails with a queen to throwing back shots of vodka in a dimly-lit bar.

 

_I can’t throw away this shot._

 

     When she _agreed_ , however, he was a _disaster_ . Obviously he wanted her to say yes, but seeing her write it-he was _not_ emotionally prepared for this outcome. Well, he already had the ring and the third draft of what he would say to Mr. Philip Schuyler, but he wasn’t _ready!_ So, when he called for the carriage to the Schuyler household, he was going through a million unrealistic scenarios and the (rare) practical ones.

 

     Once the carriage rounded the Schuyler estate, he began to gather as much confidence as his currently miniscule ego would allow him. The large brick-colored mansion overlooked the Hudson river, allowing a beautiful view from any of the front-facing windows. The Georgian style house somehow eased Alex’s nerves. It was as if the house offered a peace that evaded him as of late.

 

     In spite of Alex’s newfound comfort, all his bravery dissipated at the glimpse of Philip Schuyler hidden in his office. His eyes darted to the maid and he swiftly introduced himself. The maid led him through the day room and sat him down in the living room. The plush cushions attempted to coax Alex, to let down his walls, but each second that ticked by left him even more anxious than before. When he heard heavy footsteps, he rapidly wiped the sheen of sweat on his forehead. At first sight of the man, he slowly rose to his feet.

 

     “Alexander Hamilton,” he introduced himself smoothly, with purpose and confidence. Alexander knew what he was here for and he wouldn’t leave without Mr. Schuyler’s blessing.

 

* * *

 

     Alexander had been speaking to Mr. Schuyler for nearly an hour. He professed all he felt for the Schuyler daughter and all about his work. He was desperate, but he hid it. He couldn't afford weakness at the moment. With wine courage and a heart overflowing with love, he finally asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

Alexander couldn’t ignore the squeal behind him. A smile danced across his face as he rose once more to shake Mr. Schuyler's hand. It took all of his self-control to avoid kissing this man’s feet. His whole world seemed to brighten. Everything seemed clearer, livelier. Alex felt the gravity of his new situation in his muscles, in his blood, in each nerve ending in his body-

 

_And he was_ _ecstatic_ _._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOY OH BOY, okay I'll probably update every weekend because of school and AP courses and other school related things.
> 
> Alrighty so about my previous title, I had originally wrote "AU where Hamilton genuinely loved Eliza" and changed it to what I have now and heres the reason lets go: 
> 
> What I'm trying to get across is what would happen if Alex put Eliza first (which I see as GENUINELY loving her). Kind of a redo, a second chance for Hamilton to REALLY treat Eliza right. Because he didn't. It wasn't until the end (best of wives best of women for example) where he appreciated her for who she was. Eliza had to fight for his time (Take A Break), his love. She had to fight for her marriage. As strong as she is, she still failed (Maria Reynolds). Because Alex never put her first. I'm trying to play with the idea of Alex finally putting her first and what happens due to it. Ham always put his family second (Take A Break) over his job. If given the choice between helping his family or his job, he'd take the job and figure out an excuse to make it look like he helped his family (somewhat in Reynolds Pamphlet "it was an act of political sacrifice").
> 
> I answered tons of comments along these lines and thats okay! go for it! but i just wanted to clear it up HERE so I wouldn't have to repeat myself so many times XD ANYWAY thanks for reading and updates will be weekly or bi-weekly on the weekends or monday! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT BY THE WAY I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS TO DO SO WELL, I STARTED YELLING WHEN I HIT 100 HITS AND HERE I AM WITH 400 WOW OKAY, I REALLY APPRECIATE ALL THE LOVE,,,,!

**Author's Note:**

> WOAH I was not expecting a half-asleep fic idea to turn into this. So, I'm typically more of an editor than a writer (Scarlet Sacrred by mill_thyself) (The Congratulations Fic™ by weirdo_weirdo) but, I thought I'd give it a try! Let me know what you thought, I'll most likely continue because I have sO many ideas and I am inVESTED,,,


End file.
